


Angel Wiggles™

by infinitevariety (disapparater)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anthony JActs of Service Crowley, Asexual Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Autistic Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Cannot Sit In Chairs Properly (Good Omens), Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:27:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disapparater/pseuds/infinitevariety
Summary: Crowley wants to make Aziraphale happy enough to wiggle.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 39
Kudos: 191





	Angel Wiggles™

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an ask I got on tumblr and originally posted [here](https://infinitevariety.tumblr.com/post/634339317423259648/thinking-about-angel-wiggles-tm-today).

Something is wrong.

Crowley doesn’t know what it is, but he knows something is wrong with Aziraphale. It’s not that Aziraphale seems unhappy, but he’s not happy _enough_ , as far as Crowley is concerned. He’s done everything he can think of, but nothing has worked. Aziraphale has given him smiles, lingering touches, and grateful words—but he hasn’t given Crowley a _wiggle_.

Pastries from Aziraphale’s favourite fancy bakery in Knightsbridge on Monday earned Crowley a gasp of delight and the sight of Aziraphale licking crème pâtissière from the corner of his mouth. Aziraphale’s shoulders, however, remained still.

A bunch of home grown yellow tulips on Tuesday caused a light blush, demure eyes, and a softly spoken, “Thank you.” Otherwise Aziraphale was, quite literally, unmoved.

On Wednesday Crowley’s offer to help Aziraphale catalogue and re-organise his entire collection of books was met with a long, shocked stare followed by one of his brightest smiles. While the offer was readily accepted and Crowley put to work, the most action Aziraphale’s arms got were carrying and re-shelving books.

By Thursday Crowley was desperate. Surely sushi at Aziraphale’s favourite restaurant, where he could chat to the chef in fluent Japanese and get tipsy on the very best Japanese beer, would elicit his trademark wiggle? It hadn’t.

Friday, Crowley goes all out. Dinner at the Ritz followed by The Glass Menagerie at the Duke of York’s Theatre. Aziraphale was beaming by the end of the first course. As they walked to the theatre Aziraphale thread his arm through Crowley’s and squeezed. When the show finished and the lights went up Crowley could _see_ Aziraphale’s excitement, bubbling under the surface. But still, his shoulders didn’t move.

Worrying he’d taken it too far, Crowley dialled it back on Saturday. A stroll through the park, feeding the ducks, and a small surprise picnic. Aziraphale was delighted. Delighted enough to take Crowley’s hand, lay his head on Crowley’s shoulder, and call him ‘dearest’. But _not_ delighted enough to _wiggle his damn body_.

Come Sunday, Crowley gives in.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, my dear, why do you ask?”

Crowley is upside down on the bookshop’s sofa. Head almost touching the floor and legs up over the back. The different angle has given him no insight into what is amiss with Aziraphale.

“I’ve wined and dined you, brought you gifts, even helped you around the bloody bookshop—”

“And I’ve loved every moment of it,” replies Aziraphale without looking up from his crossword puzzle. “Why would something be wrong with you treating me so wonderfully?”

“It can’t be that wonderful,” Crowley tells him. “You haven’t _wiggled!_ ”

Aziraphale’s pen, previously scribbling notes in the margin, abruptly stops.

“W—what do you mean?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know, Aziraphale. You wiggle. When you’re extra happy. Your shoulders go up and down, sometimes your hips join in. I’ve even seen your head do a little wobble.”

Aziraphale looks up at Crowley and blusters. “I do not _wiggle_. I don’t know _what_ you’re—”

“Oh, you _do_ ,” interrupts Crowley. “Get so full of good feelings they try to wriggle out of your skin. One of the best things about making you so damn happy, those little wiggles. Your big beseeching eyes get me to do things for you, and the cute little wiggles I get in return feel like a reward.

“But you’re not—you’ve not _been_ wiggling. So, tell me if I’m not doing enough. Tell me what you need to be wiggle-happy. Or tell me what’s wrong—what’s stopping your from being happy enough to wiggle.”

Crowley looks up at Aziraphale from his upside down position near the floor. Aziraphale’s face is slack, but hard to read the wrong way up.

“You—you _like_ my wiggles?”

“No, angel, I _love_ your wiggles. If _I_ was a wiggler, your wiggles would have me wiggling.” Crowley scrunches up his face. “The word wiggle is starting to lose meaning.”

“I’m afraid I’ve been rather foolish,” admits Aziraphale.

In one fluid movement, Crowley twists and sits the right way up. He looks at Aziraphale, who won’t meet his eye.

“What do you mean?” asks Crowley.

“Well, I was embarrassed by them. I’ve had… _comments_ before, about not being able to stay still and looking silly.”

Crowley’s eyes narrow behind his sunglasses as he imagines Gabriel tripping over his own shoelaces, landing on his face, and chipping a few teeth.

“And I’ve just been so, _so_ happy recently. I was afraid I was being too, well, wiggly. So, I’ve been making a conscious effort to… not.” Aziraphale finally looks up at Crowley. “You’ve been absolutely marvellous to me this week, my dear. It’s been _very_ hard to keep still.”

A smile pulls at Crowley’s lips.

“Please don’t,” he tells Aziraphale. “Please don’t sensor yourself, in any way, with me. You’re perfect, angel. Wiggles and all.”

Aziraphale smiles at Crowley, looking soft and happy and far away. And then, _finally_ , there it is. Crowley can tell Aziraphale has stopped thinking about it, doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

He _wiggles_.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi and drop me a prompt on [tumblr](https://infinitevariety.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
